A Happy Christmas Indeed
by ShoeStone
Summary: Short fic in which James screws up the rest of his life or at least, that's what it seems like. Finished. Beware of melodrama.


On the frosty morning of December the twenty-fifth, James found himself in the empty Common Room on one knee, confessing his undying and unconditional love for a certain redheaded girl. He knelt on the stone ground facing her, while he held her right hand with his left.   
  
She sat on a red, squishy armchair, in front of him with tears glistening in her dazzling green eyes and one hand delicately resting on her heart as she listened to him finish his words. He gave Lily a small smile as he reached into the pocket of his pajama shirt, and she gasped softly as James pulled out a small box covered in rich green velvet....   
  
Lily watched him, in silent awe, as his shaking fingers opened the box to reveal a shining, silver ring that had one glittering white diamond on it. James had spent almost thirty galleons nervously purchasing this ring in Hogsmeade the previous month from a small jewelry shop, but it had been worth it; the ring was beautiful and it suited Lily perfectly.   
  
With wet eyes, James whispered, "Lily Evans, I love you more than life itself, and I couldn't imagine not spending the rest of my life with you. I'd like to ask you... if you would possibly consider... marrying me."   
  
He then leaned forward, although he hadn't planned on it, and planted a gentle, soft kiss on her lips.   
  
As he kneeled back down, awaiting her answer, Lily was gazing into his eyes with no emotion. After a second, she shook her head slowly with wide eyes. Her mind was apparently in a rush.   
  
_She's so surprised_, James thought, grinning brightly on the inside.   
  
"James..." she said weakly. "What... is going on? What are you doing?" She suddenly looked as if she were about to be sick.   
  
As soon as he understood, a sudden panic swept over him, his neck and shoulder muscles seizing painfully along with his mind. What had she just said? It hadn't sounded much like a "Yes, I would love to marry you."   
  
"...What?" he asked. His voice cracked as he uttered the simple word. "You... you looked quite happy a second ago...."   
  
"I thought you were just telling me... Never mind. I didn't know you were... you know, proposing." Lily held one hand to her forehead, her eyes closed. She then told him slowly, "James, we are sixteen bloody years old."   
  
_...Oh no. Please, no. Not now. Not here.   
_  
"But Lily," he protested gently, his throat drying out. "I love you."   
  
"That doesn't mean we can get married at sixteen!" she said exasperatedly. "That's just... disgusting."

"We'll be seventeen soon. And I don't see the problem," he said, honestly. "I love you, and you love me. We should get married."   
  
Lily's mouth was slightly open now. She actually looked as if she was about to cry and be sick at the same time, and James strongly wished that he hadn't said whatever he had that offended her. He put the box with her ring in it on the stone floor next to him so he could reach over with both hands and touch Lily's in silent apology.   
  
But she quickly pulled away from him, her face sending the message "Don't touch me. "James looked into her eyes; whenever he did so, he could almost see exactly what she was thinking. As his panicked hazel eyes met her moist emerald ones, he felt an immense weight drop into his stomach.   
  
She was looking at him as if he was a stranger. There was a sort of... fear and confusion, he supposed, that he'd never seen in her eyes before. Especially when she was looking at him.   
  
"If you think you love someone, you should marry that person. Is this what you're trying to tell me?!" she asked him quietly, in horror.   
  
"No! Well, yes, in a way, b-but not--"   
  
"For all I know, you've asked _all _of your girlfriends to marry you," she said unsteadily.   
  
"No, I haven't!" His voice was strained. "Please... I promise you, there was—   
  
But Lily wasn't listening. She'd gone into one of here frantic moments—

"How old were you when you made your first proposal?!" she demanded sarcastically as she suddenly stood up from her armchair, in a towering rage. It was obvious that her temper didn't need much heat for it to reach its boiling point. "Eleven? Twelve?"   
  
"Lily, please don't--" he attempted, standing up also, but she cut him off.   
  
"I bet you didn't even buy that ring originally for me." She blinked at him, and a small, angry tear ran her cheek. "You, James Potter, are just... a lie. Never before did I think I'd meet a fake person. You never fail to surprise me."   
  
James drew in a shaky breath. "Lily, please don't do this..." he pleaded, reaching for her hand again.   
  
She took a few steps away from him, more tears soundlessly falling from her eyes. "You know, f-for a while I was thinking that maybe you were a decent person. I thought that, just maybe, you were capable of really loving someone."   
  
James was ready to cry as well. "But I've always loved y—"   
  
"Now I see that it's all been an act. It's something you practice and practice, until it's so believable... that you can make someone else think that they... that they really love you." 

For a second, James looked into Lily's eyes and saw her usual loving gaze, but in a heartbeat her wet eyes turned to stone, and, unexpectedly, she let out a small sob as she pelted up the staircase to the Girls' Dormitories.   
  
James stood, shocked, in the Common Room, which seemed emptier than it had ever seemed before. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think; it was as if his brain wasn't capable of registering the information that Lily wasn't going to be his wife any time soon... or that the small kiss he'd given her a minute ago might have been the last one they would share....   
  
So very slowly that it was as if all the bones in his body were broken, he bent down to pick up the green velvet box which contained the ring that would never belong on the finger of the girl of his dreams. He then glanced at the short, plump Christmas Tree that stood by the happily crackling fire, with its cheerful stringed popcorn and festive red baubles, and fought back tears that had come out of nowhere. Sitting down on the nearest sofa, he reached over to the side table and poured himself a glass of ice-cold butterbeer from the self-chilling bottle that Tom Jordan had given him for Christmas that morning.   
  
He took a large gulp of it as hot tears streamed down his face--he didn't even bother to stop them. There was no use, and no point, in holding back.   
  
He could not believe it. Not only was Lily not going to marry him, but she was no longer in love with him. She hated him. She thought he was a fake person. She thought he was a lie.  
  
He had just lost Lily. He had just lost everything. And all because… he had wanted to show her how much he cared.   
  
James swished his nearly full glass around, and then got a small idea. Tears still silently coming, he reached over to the side table again and picked up a short leather-bound book. Opening it after setting it down on his lap, he turned to a blank page, and then pulled his self-inking quill out from the back of the book. He wiped his wet face with his blue striped pajama sleeve, and then quickly scribbled the following words before putting the journal away, and harshly gulping down the remaining butterbeer.   
  
"With a full glass and an empty heart, I search for something to calm my screaming mind….

"Happy Christmas _indeed_."

- Finis -


End file.
